


Concert

by minhos_arms



Series: Minewt One-Shots [1]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Gen, minewt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 16:04:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3535562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minhos_arms/pseuds/minhos_arms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Minho and Newt meet in line for a concert</p>
            </blockquote>





	Concert

_It’s so fucking hot_.

As Minho sat on the hard concrete, he began to wonder if it was really worth lining up so early.

_Of course it is_ , he thought. He didn’t believe it, but he was desperately trying to convince himself. _It’s their reunion tour, it’s definitely worth it._ God… He sounded like an emo middle school kid again.

Minho yawned and checked his watch. Ten minutes? It had only been _ten minutes?_ He wished that Ben were there to help pass the time.

Minho and Ben had met in the mosh-pit of their favourite band, when Ben accidentally elbowed Minho in the face as soon as the lights dimmed. When the lights rose again, it wasn’t hard for Ben to pick out the unfortunate soul whose face had violently connected with his left elbow, just moments earlier.

Minho was quite fond of that memory, and had vivid recollections of seeing a blurred image of his future best friend through his badly watering eyes. Yet now, as he sat under the scorching morning sun, he cursed the gods or the Universe or whatever the hell it was that had caused Ben’s university exam to line up with exact date of the concert.

Another twenty minutes passed and the day only grew hotter and hotter. Minho constantly swore at himself for insisting to wear jeans. He had had enough sense to leave his jacket behind, but even without that extra weight, he was beginning to sweat through his shirt. He would have just taken it off if it wasn’t for that blond kid sitting in line next to him, glancing at him every now and then, but looking away as soon as Minho caught his eye.

_What’s his deal?_ Minho wondered.

The boy was wearing a thin, white hooded-shirt with the hood pulled up over his head, protecting the back of his neck from the sun, and his pants were rolled halfway up his calves. He looked up at Minho through several locks of his golden hair that had fallen down onto his face, catching his eye again.

“Aren’t you hot wearing that?” The boy spoke with an accent. English?

“I’m freaking boiling,” Minho said.

“Have you ever been to a concert before?”

Minho was confused at the sudden change in topic. “Yeah, wh-“

“Then why the hell did you think it would be a good idea to wear jeans and leather boots?” The blond boy practically shouted, shocking Minho. “You must be a bloody idiot!”

Minho wholeheartedly agreed, looking down at his terrible outfit choice.

“I guess I didn’t really think this one through,” He mumbled.

The blond boy stared at him for a second, not saying anything. His face broke into a grin. “I guess not. I’m Newt, by the way.”

“‘Newt’, is that short for something?” Minho asked, his head tilted to one side.

“My name’s Isaac, but my friend Thomas started calling me ’Newt’ when we were younger. Y’know, as in ‘Isaac Newton’,” Newt explained.

“Thats… That’s actually really clever.”

Newt hummed in agreement. “Well he certainly seemed to think so, so the name kind of just… stuck,” he finished.

Minho hurriedly tried to think of something else to say, a question, comment, anything. He wasn’t a huge fan of awkward silences and he definitely wanted to keep the conversation going, partly to pass the time, and partly because he found this Newt guy to be interesting. Luckily for him, Newt spoke up first.

“You never told me your name, you know.”

“Oh, Minho,” He said, wiping his sweaty palm on his jeans before holding out his hand.

Newt smiled and shook the offered hand. “Well, _Minho_ , I don’t know about you, but sitting on this bloody concrete is really starting to hurt.”

“You might even say it’s a pain in the ass.”

Any fear of awkwardness melted away and the hours started to pass in a blur as Minho found himself enjoying Newt’s company more and more.

 

Finally the time came. The doors were about to open and everyone was standing and starting to rustle around in their bags and pockets, getting their tickets ready. The line, which had grown significantly since Minho and Newt found their places in the early morning, was beginning to shrink again, as everyone pushed forward into a tighter group, thinking that if they did, they might get into the venue faster.

Newt was unable to stand still, bouncing up and down on his toes with a huge smile plastered on his face. Minho’s heart was racing. _It’s happening_ he thought, even though he knew that once they were inside they would still have a couple of hours before the concert actually started.

The line slowly started moving forward as people began filing through the doors. As Minho had his ticket scanned and the impatient-looking woman wrapped a wristband around his arm, he glanced back to find Newt, not wanting to lose his new friend in the crowd.

Newt, having only been pushed back a few feet, caught Minho’s eye and sent him a wide smile and a thumbs up as his own ticket was scanned. He bounced on his feet slightly as he waited for the woman to _hurry up and get the damn wristband on._ He pushed past the few people who had managed to slip in front of him to catch up with Minho, grabbing hold of his arm and pulling him along, eager to get a good spot.

Minho used his weight to try and hold the blond back somewhat, not wanting him to get _too_ over-excited and sprint off, although it took a lot of effort not to start running himself.

The two found their way to where the front of the crowd was quickly forming, moving as close to the stage as they possibly could. Over the next few minutes, with the hundreds of other people piling into the stadium, Newt found himself being gradually pushed back by much bigger people who, like himself, wanted to be as close to the stage as possible.

Minho turned to once again tell his friend to ‘look how close we are!’ but upon seeing how far back he was being moved, shot him a worried look, knowing that in all the excitement of the lights dimming, they could easily lose each other in the crowd. Newt shrugged helplessly, mouthing the words ‘it’ll be fine’.

Taking a quick look around himself, Minho reached over the top of several people, grabbing Newt by the shoulder and pulling him forward, muttering unhelpful “coming through”s and “s’cuse me”s to the people around him. Newt, all the while giggling like an idiot, felt guilty and tried to apologise to everyone who had been in the way, not that it made much of a difference. He reached Minho and the two stood pressed into each other’s sides, laughing and trying to ignore the irritated voices of the people behind them. They chatted excitedly while waiting for the rest of the stadium to fill with people and, along with everyone else, pretended to enjoy the music of the opening act, secretly wishing that they would _just hurry up and finish._

At last the time came. The murmur of hundreds of voices started to fade away and the lights dimmed.

 

* * *

  

“That. Was…”

“Incredible?” Minho offered, jogging to catch up with Newt, who had slipped through the crowd and out of the venue doors in a flash. As fun as the concert was, it was a relief to finally feel the cool, night air.

“Incredible! It was incredible!” Newt was spinning in circles with his head back, shouting into the sky.

Minho stood back and watched him, his new friend Newt, the boy with the strange accent and the strange name, spinning around like he didn’t have a care in the world. He immediately felt guilty for thinking it, but he was almost thankful that Ben couldn’t make it. If he had, then Minho probably would not have met Newt, and looking at him now, he was so glad that he had.

Newt crashed into Minho’s side and held tightly onto his shoulder as he tried to regain his balance, his smile never faltering.

“Hey, Newt?” Minho spoke in a softer voice, so that only Newt could hear him.

“Yeah?” Having regained his balance, Newt was standing up properly now, and he looked up into Minho’s eyes.

“I’m really glad that I met you.”

Newt laughed. “We’ve only known each other for a day, no need to get so bloody sentimental.”

“I’m serious! I’ve been thinking about it, if I had shown up any later, or earlier for that matter, I probably wouldn’t have met you.” He threw his arms out to the sides and spun around in circles, imitating Newt from just moments earlier. “Isn’t that crazy!?” He yelled into the air.

“It’s completely crazy!” Newt shouted after him.

Minho walked back over to Newt, shaking his head with a small laugh.

“Y’know what, Minho?” Newt said in a slightly more serious tone, though his smile still had not left his face.

“What?” Minho asked, looking up at Newt.

“I’m glad I met you too.”


End file.
